


A Not-So-Clean, Badly-Lighted Place

by Sath



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bees, Comedy, M/M, actual trashfic, sex in weird places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sath/pseuds/Sath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Steve have sex in Hydra's dumpster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Not-So-Clean, Badly-Lighted Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acaramelmacchiato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acaramelmacchiato/gifts).



"You’ve got to start taking me out to better places," Steve said, flicking a banana peel out of Bucky’s hair. "This is a real dive." 

"Little trashy, I’ll admit," Bucky replied.

They were in a large dumpster. It smelled horrible, but at least the banana was one of the few food items. Everything else was the office trash of a Hydra sleeper cell, so they were spending their Friday night picking through it. Steve had had to cancel their reservations at Le Diplomate. 

"Have these people even heard of a document shredder?" Bucky grumbled. "Shit, here’s Batroc’s cell number. You already have that, don’t you?" 

"Don’t remind me." 

Batroc had only recently stopped sending Steve gym selfies. Bucky knew better than to be jealous, but he could be annoyed. 

"I thought military bureaucracy was bad enough, but Hydra is downright evil about this," Steve said, chuckling to himself as he bent over to rifle through a pile of paperwork Bucky couldn’t differentiate from the rest of the trash. 

Bucky had come to terms very quickly with his changing feelings about Steve’s butt. When you’re already adjusting to having your own personal agency back and going seventy years into the future, what’s a few gay thoughts added to the mix? Background noise while you guiltily masturbate in Nick Fury’s spare bathroom. He hoped Nick enjoyed the tape. 

"Steve."

"Yeah, Buck?" 

"Have you ever had sex in a dumpster?"

It was a rhetorical question. Bucky was 90% sure he’d been responsible for 100% of Steve’s sexual experiences, and they had never gone dumpster diving together before. 

Steve turned around, bringing his ass out of view. “Have you?” 

"No. Remember what trash used to smell like?" 

Steve laughed. “Especially in the summer when it was left out for a week. Kids these days have no idea what they’re missing.” 

Then Steve went back to Hydra’s expense reports, his buttocks filling out his sweatpants admirably and even a little improbably. 

"Trash smells a lot better now," Bucky said. 

"Um," Steve replied. "Do you want to have sex in this trash?" 

"Yeah. Yeah I do." 

“This is unsanitary,” Steve said, lowering his pants anyway. 

“What’ve you got to worry about, super soldier? I’ll use my left arm.” 

Steve looked around him, taking in their surroundings with his usual keen eye for strategy, except this time it was for literally trashy sex. 

“C’mere, Bucky.” 

The reams of paper and tissues and candy wrappers that made up Hydra’s dumpster slid around Bucky like a tide as he crossed the bin. He’d only just gotten a grin on his face when Steve pulled Bucky’s dick out of his pants and spat into his hand.

“Just a handjob?” Bucky asked.

“I’m not kneeling in this.” 

“You haven’t even washed your hands.”

“I just spit on them, didn’t I?”

Bucky’s next taunt came out as a pleased “unngggh” as Steve roughly stroked his cock. The handjob was completely perfunctory and a little impatient, but it was perfect.

“We’re in an overgrown trash can and you still manage to come on my sweatpants.”

There was an imprint of Bucky’s left hand on the rim of the dumpster. The metal creaked as Bucky adjusted his grip so he could take Steve’s cock in his hand. 

“Other arm,” Steve said, licking his lips nervously. 

“Steve, you’ve seen me rip off car doors with this thing.”

“I trust you, Bucky.” 

Bucky’s bionic arm was so, so dirty. He hadn’t scrubbed it in weeks, and they’d fought the Swarm last Thursday. His arm might still be full of bees. Trust maybe wasn’t the issue here. Well, Steve got off on his robotic death hand, okay, Bucky could deal with that. He’d been the first to bring them into this trash bin. Bucky flexed his left wrist, sneakily checking his joints for bees or bee byproducts. 

“I’m not used to doing this lefty,” Bucky said, nearly tripping on garbage as he leaned towards Steve. He should’ve checked his proprioception before leaving the house, but he hadn’t expected to be doing any wet jobs. Steve didn’t look pained when Bucky started jerking him off, so that was a no to both busted receptors and remnant bees. 

The bright light of a street lamp as someone lifted up the dumpster lid completely ruined the mood. Temporarily blinded, he recognized Batroc by the outrage alone. 

“Capitan, I see now why you never added me back on Instagram.”

**Author's Note:**

> Freegan handjobs.


End file.
